Post navigation

The most dangerous tree in the suburbs

A forty foot tall Sweet Gum tree rises from the northeast corner of my back yard. On this early spring day, the tree is still a skeleton, although leaf buds are just beginning to emerge and dozens of Sweet Gum balls dangle from its naked branches like shriveled Christmas tree ornaments. Hundreds more lie scattered throughout the grass, and spill out onto the alleyway asphalt, where most are flattened by car wheels. In a few weeks, the Sweet Gum’s glossy green leaves–five pointed stars–will emerge. Then a new crop of gumballs, green throughout the summer, but gradually drying out to become spiky brown seed-carrying hulls. The finches, nuthatches and chickadees will then begin pressing their small beaks into the Sweet Gum balls’ many chambers, extracting the two edible seeds that each chamber contains. Larger bird species with beaks too large to get to the seeds leave these to their smaller competitors. In the fall the Sweet Gum’s leaves will turn yellow, then purple, then red, and will be among the last of the leaves in my yard to drop. One by one, from late fall steadily through the winter, most of the dried out gum balls, long since deprived of their seeds, will drop from the Sweet Gum’s branches.

The bark of the Sweet Gum, sometimes called Alligator Wood.

Liquidambar styraciflua gets its name from the resin the tree produces. It was used to add a distinctive balsamic flavoring to the first pipe of tobacco Aztec Emperor Moctezuma shared with Conquistador Hernando Cortez. Spanish physician and New World explorer Francisco Hernandez became an early convert to its value, claiming it had a range of healing properties. He claimed it was effective in treating gonorrhea and diptheria, was a pain reliever and a sleep aid, and that it “relieve[d] wind in the stomach.” In some parts of the American South, where the tree is abundant, locals call it Alligator Wood because its furrowed and scaly bark resembles the skin of that southern reptile.

Sweet Gum Balls from my yard.

My southeastern Ohio yard is near the northern edge of the Sweet Gum’s natural range. This is a southern tree, and in warmer climates, undisturbed, the tree can reach heights of one hundred or more feet high. Mine has probably reached its peak height, and its natural conical symmetry has been compromised by the regular hair cuts it has received from American Electric Power crews determined to keep its east-reaching branches out of the power lines which run along the edge of my property. My house was built in 1962, by Dr. William and Beatrice Fisk, and while this tree might have preceded the house, it fits so nicely into their carefully designed landscape plan I suspect they deliberately planted it there.

A nuthatch among the Sweet Gum balls.

There was a time not too long ago when the Sweet Gum was a popular choice for suburban yards. It grows relatively fast, has a pleasing symmetrical shape and fabulous fall color. In the mid 1940s, as Dutch Elm disease swept across the midwest, killing off the graceful elms which lined the streets of so many towns, the Sweet Gum was a popular replacement tree. The Arbor Day Foundation gave out thousands of young Sweet Gum saplings to the children of Springfield, Illinois who eagerly planted them along the sidewalks in front of their homes.

A close up look at a Sweet Gum ball.

But today, the Sweet Gum has disappeared from most of the tree nursery catalogs catering to the suburban homeowner, and the Sweet Gum now appears on many top ten lists of the worst trees to plant in your yard. It not only made the list of the “Five Worst Trees for the Lazy Landscaper,” but it was the runaway victor in the website’s “Which of these is your least favorite messy tree?” poll, earning 60% of the votes. The Catalpa came in a distant second place with just 15% of the vote, followed by the Magnolia (13%) Pecan (8%) and Oak (5%). The Sweet Gum’s primary liability, according to the makers of this list, are the thousands of spiny brown seed balls–gum balls if you will–that it casts upon the ground around it.

Birth control injections for Sweet Gum trees.

According to the Lazy Landscaper, these “hard, brown, spiky balls that can create some serious hazards. Not only can they wound you if you slip and fall into them, they can also roll unexpectedly, causing sprained ankles.” Because of their spiky nature, they are difficult to rake up. And don’t try to run your lawnmower over them, Lazy Landscaper warns, as “when airborne they are as dangerous as grenades.” As demand has plummeted for the Sweet Gum some national nurseries like Stark Brothers’ Nurseries responded by offering a hybrid Sweet Gum tree, billed as “nearly gumball free.” But even that was not enough to sustain demand for the increasingly despised Sweet Gum, and Stark Brothers has stopped carrying Sweet Gums altogether. Some Sweet Gum Ball foes have offered another solution–birth control for Sweet Gum Trees. Apparently by drilling a series of holes around the base of a Sweet Gum tree and injecting hormones into each hole you can keep a Sweet Gum tree from fruiting.

Perhaps I need to place this sign near my Sweet Gum tree.

The anti-Sweet Gum movement appears to have reached a new stage in the very town that turned to the Sweet Gum as it grieved the loss of its beloved elms. In 2012, Springfield, Illinois launched a Sweet Gum eradication campaign, offering to remove the tree from the tree lawns of residents, and replace them with a variety deemed more suitable, all for a city-subsidized cost of just $250. The Sweet Gums, even one of its quasi-defenders claims, create a “death-defying obstacle course for distracted walkers, runners, and everyone in between.” And while a few of Springfield’s residents have spoken up for the nuthatches, finches, and chickadees, the bulk of the criticism appears to be coming from residents who believe that the city is not removing these menaces fast enough. Very quickly after announcing the program, Springfield had received requests to remove 338 Sweet Gums, and Springfield’s anti Sweet Gum citizenry are just going to have to be patient.

Now I’ve been pushing my gas powered mower over a lawn full of Sweet Gum balls for years, and have escaped unwounded. And while barefoot walks around my raggedly lawn often yield an unwelcome sharp prod or two from one natural hazard or another, I have managed to escape serious injury. Is my lovely Sweet Gum tree really a hazard to people and pets? Am I failing to be a good citizen by not cutting it down? It didn’t seem right to reject the complaints of the growing anti-Sweet Gum movement out of hand. In the interest of science and good neighborliness, I thought I should conduct a test, with myself as the lab rat. I would conduct my own firewalk of sorts. I would walk barefoot under my Sweet Gum Tree.

Two dangers in this picture: Sweet Gum balls and the blinding white glare of my winter foot.

I confess to having some trepidation during my first naked-footed pass under the Sweet Gum. I stepped gingerly and with much anticipation, keeping one hand hovering above my backyard fence, ready to grab ahold of it should a quick sharp stab cause me to collapse into a bed of thousands of menacing spiked balls. But on my first pass I experienced just a few mildly unpleasant jabs on the bottom of my winter-softened feet. Passes two and three were equally non-eventful, and I grew bolder in my steps. By the fourth pass I was actively looking for Sweet Gum balls to press my arch down upon, and each time I was disappointed by the mildness of the pain, as the grass underneath gave way, cushioning the impact of the Sweet Gum ball’s spikes. I finally I settled upon a more challenging test–I would walk barefoot across the pavement of the adjacent alley, where several Sweet Gumballs were scattered, not yet crushed by passing car wheels. I spotted an especially large one on the pavement and planted one bare foot firmly down upon it. Yes, it hurt a bit. And had I not been prepared for it, it is possible that my knee might have buckled in response to the surprise pain, and I might have tumbled to the pavement, skinning knees and risking infections. Still, my foot got the better of the encounter. The spiky Sweet Gum ball lay crushed and broken on the pavement, and the tender skin under my winter-softened foot remained unbroken.

I have resolved to become a Sweet Gum defender and steward of my town’s remaining Sweet Gum Trees. The finches, nuthatches and chickadees need an ally. Perhaps I will write a song about the Sweet Gum and play it on my ukulele.

Post navigation

49 thoughts on “The most dangerous tree in the suburbs”

What a bunch of treeball weenies! The liquidambar is a gorgeous, gorgeous tree! As soon as we bought a house here in L.A., I rushed to plant one in our front yard. It’s the only tree here that shows fall colors, and I have such wonderful memories of my little boys playing in tiny piles of leaves : ) Did I occasionally step on a spikeball and utter a profanity? You betcha! But it was so worth it to see that beautiful tree every day.

BTW, we had that nasty St. Augustine grass, which is stiff like bristle, so I was able to use a kitchen broom (real broomstraw type) and just sweep many of the balls off the lawn!

The sweet-gum trees are beautiful in Southeast Texas and add beautiful hues of yellow and orange to our fall months. My neighbor has one about 56 ft high that I can easily see from my bedroom window every day. The balls hang like ornaments on a Christmas tree, now, but the last two months it offered brilliant hues of color amidst tall green pines. . The balls are spikey, but I agree w/other posters here – a minor inconvenience compared to the beauty and shade they offer throughout the year. As for St. Augustine grass — what a Weenie! Here in Texas, St. Augustine grass is a prized possession! The sweet fragrance it gives off when cutting is unmatched by any other grass, and as a child, playing football with my brothers and neighborhood kids, and rolling around on this velvety carpet, adds to the sweetness of the memories.

Ha ha ha! Only a year later (I’m on an extended blogging break), and I respond, but my excuse is that you called me a weenie! Stabby St. Augustine, “velvety”? Guess they DO grow ’em tougher in Texas! And St. Augustine gives off a fragrance? Humpf. I guess, compared to your longhorn stockyards–mwah-ah-ah! }:-)>

Antiviral can be made from these gum balls. Tamiflu used to be made from these until they made a synthetic copy. You will miss those trees when we have the next shortage of antivirals in a flu epidemic. They are worth the pain of cleaning up their messes.

Airborne grenades make this tree a danger when cutting grass. I had one hit my grand son who was 30 feet away playing on the patio while I was cutting grass. The billions of sweet-gum balls that must be raked every year. Is absurd. Yes, it is a beautiful tree. But in the right spot. It is not a tree that anyone would want in a suburban subdivision. In more open country, yes…grow baby grow. On my 1/4th acre of land shared with 5 of these damn things, no….its time for them to go.

There is simply not enough space on a quarter acre for five Sweet-gums and a malcouth non-tree hugger. You need to leave. Best damned climbing tree for a kid anywhere in the south — except for the Mimosa, of course (that’s another non-tree hugger mortal enemy {all those jillions of squishy-gooshy flowers and those fripping seed pods}. Oh well, botany is a world with a bunch of nuts, and some nuts just have to be bitter about things. Others can just be taken in stride. Next time you see one of those little gray balls on a sweet-gum injury, taste it. One of nature’s best chewing gums ever.

We just planted 4 Sweet Gum babies! We are excited to watch them grow over the years. They are a native tree in Georgia and we want to stay as close to natural plants where we live in the mountains of northern Georgia. Thanks for sharing your comments! 😁

They have these trees all over South Pasadena, including the next door neighbor. And sure they leave a million little spikey balls, but thats a small price to pay for the nice tree color and asthetic value. Nice shaped tree. When my kids were little, they used to have wars and toss the seed pods at each other or pretend they were Fernando Valenzuela and pitch them at the Crepe Myrtles. But yeah, sure. Dont run them over with a lawn mower. One time one of them launched back into my “area” there. Ouch. But such a lovely tree.

Honestly, they’re fine most of the time. But around Champaign-Urbana, IL, we have a bunch of people and business who have planted Sweet Gum trees along the sidewalks…and then don’t effectively shovel the sidewalks, leading to a bunch of compressed snow and ice. If there’s an early snow, those fruits end up lying on top of the ice, and traversing it is like walking on hard mode. So, basically, they’re fine as long as you’re willing to take the time to clean up after them.

An important and highly overlooked fact about Sweet Gums is that they are a favored host tree of many of our native North American silk moth larvae such as the large and beautiful Actias luna (moon moth) and Cecropia moth. Thank you for defending this wonderful tree!

I agree with you, trees were here long before the human species. Humans have always looked upon Nature as a threat, not realizing that those spikes on the seed pods are its natural defense mechanism. Only humans view Nature as a foe.

I think I got plantar fascia and bone spurs on my feet from having these trees in my front yard. But my husband refuses to cut them down. He also does not clean up the seed pods either. Maybe next year I will try the Shop Vac on these buggers.

Defenders unite! 🙂 I bought my current house in East Lansing MI ten years ago and have a ~50 ft sweet gum in the front. The balls are a little annoying but come on, lol, do not warrant a widespread eradication program. The fall colors are impressive! And the tree adds nice diversity to the landscape. Power to the gum! Recently i’ve noticed little offspring popping up in the vicinity and I think i’ll let them take off. Thanks for the nice writeup.

Defenders unite! 🙂 I bought my current house in East Lansing MI ten years ago and have a ~50 ft sweet gum in the front. The balls are a little annoying but come on, lol, do not warrant a widespread eradication program. The fall colors are impressive! And the tree adds nice diversity to the landscape. Power to the gum! Recently i’ve noticed little offspring popping up in the vicinity and I think i’ll let them take off. Thanks for the nice writeup. P.S., let’s hear it for google, to identify this tree i searched on “tree with balls” and found your post right off.

I, too, am a sweet gum defender. Our local rural power company is trying to cut ours down and we are in a heated battle that is now heading to court over it. It’s out of their easement to remove so they’re resorting to calling it a hazard. Bring it. That tree will outlive us all!!! ~The Mom™ (this is my daughter’s account!) 🙂

Thank you for this article. We rent in Bellflower, California and have been living with 2 “spiky ball tree’s” for 8 years. I’ve watched them grow from younglings to strappy young men. Yes the spiky balls are a slight pain, but I love to watch and hear all the birds it brings to our front porch. Not to mention the glorious shade and amazing colors at autumn. I even use them as backdrops for my daughters annual pictures. Thank the universe for all tree’s but even more for the Sweet Gum Tree.
PS we pick up after the tree even before the landscapers come.

I have a memory from childhood in the 1960s that I was beginning to think I invented. There was a lovely curly red-headed boy in our “street gang” who we delighted in tying to a tree on our block. After getting him restrained, we would take what I used to call “burrs” and stick them in his curls.
The trees went away and were replaced with red maples. Very boring.
But over the past 40+ years I never saw this tree in Vancouver, Canada again – until last week! There were 10 of them on a light-industrial street. Very pretty. When I saw the burrs all over the ground, I started filling my purse! Now they are on my desk in a special container.

I want to offer another perspective on the sweet gum. I live in Atlanta, Georgia and there is a huge sweet gum in my front yard that dominates the landscape and is a visible landmark tree in the neighborhood. It stands about 70′ high, perhaps higher, is 3 feet in diameter, and probably 75 years old or older, and is fully foliated. Like my brethren sweet gum lovers and haters who have posted here, I have suffered through the bombardment of balls dropping for months each year. It takes hours of my time to rake them up off the yard and to get them out of the street. As much as I hate the balls and the amount of effort it takes to get rid of them each year, I have come to love the size, the majesty, and beauty of the tree, almost. . . Now, however, a new challenge has emerged – gigantic limbs and branches have fallen off of the tree from the upper reaches. Yesterday shortly after a big rainstorm came through Atlanta, I was sitting on my back porch and I heard this loud swooshing, tree-limb cracking noise, and after a moment or two of wondering what on earth that noise was, I realized “OMG, the tree might have come down.” I ran around to the front of the house and this gigantic 25 foot long 10 inch wide limb had broken off the very top of the tree and come straight down. Had anyone been out in the yard under it, death would have resulted. It dropped to the ground in seconds. I have done some research about fungus and rot that affects these trees, and have learned that they have a propensity to get fungus rot and drop branches not just because of the rot, which isn’t always noticeable, but also because of the way the trees grow – top heavy. At any rate, now I am going to get an arborist out here to examine the tree and tell me if it needs to be taken down. Mostly of course, I am concerned for the safety of my family and anyone else who might find occasion to be under this majestic messy tree. I hate the idea of having to cut this tree down, not just because of the vast void it will leave, but because it will affect me emotionally to take down a living marvel like this tree. I will admit it – about 5 years ago I cut down a giant pine tree, and it felt almost like a loss of a family member, or a beloved pet. I was astonished at my reaction to it – sadness and grief. Like the loss of the tree in Avatar!

It is very hard to say goodbye to a beloved tree. I have a massive Tulip Poplar in my backyard that towers over my house, and it is starting to show signs of age. Previous owners of the house allowed English Ivy to grow up it, and while the ivy provides wonderful hiding and nesting sites to a large number of birds, I fear it is suffocating the tree. My attempts to cut back the ivy have been unsuccessful. Were the Poplar to fall towards my house, it would do terrible damage. When it is time to take it down, it will forever alter the character of the backyard. I have planted some semi-dwarf apple trees around it, but deliberately left an opening on one side, because I think tree removal crews will need to bring in large equipment there when it is time to remove the tree.

“According to the Lazy Landscaper, these “hard, brown, spiky balls that can create some serious hazards. Not only can they wound you if you slip and fall into them, they can also roll unexpectedly, causing sprained ankles.” Because of their spiky nature, they are difficult to rake up”

I just learned the the Friends of the Urban Forest are no longer planting Liquidamber here – not because of the (sort of) spiky seed balls, but because they release volatile organic compounds (VOCs) into the atmosphere. Who knew?

I’ll be planting one of these beautiful trees in my front yard soon! I hope to be living in this house long enough to have watched it grow significantly. I love this tree and also have some childhood memories that involve this species and it’s “spiky balls”. I spray painted the dried balls with gold paint and used them in an art project. Also, some of them became actual Christmas tree ornaments that my family used for several years in a row after I had “made” them.

If you leave the balls on the lawn instead of picking them up, will they damage the lawn? Would they kill the grass or make it harder for grass to grow? Or would they just fall apart and go into the soil?

Thanks for the quick reply. I bought a house this past June and didn’t know there are around 2 dozen very tall sweet gums on the property. Most of the balls fall where there’s no lawn, but there are 2 spots where I’ll have to sweep most of them up. It seems that they sink into the dirt pretty easy making them hard to sweep up, so I wanted to know if it’s okay to leave some of them where they fall. I love the trees. I hope that I don’t grow to hate sweeping up the balls every year.

I just bought a big place in Fl with a big pool and several big sweetgum trees. They have no business existing on a pool property. They’ll be going to the pulp mill soon, where they’ll be made into toilet paper. A fitting finish for the nasty things.

I live in north eastern Ohio and alot of the parks have these trees in them. My wife, my daughter and i frequently visit the parks and walk barefooted all the time. Infact of i was to go into my car right now there would be at least 20 pods from my daughter who os 18 months old being attracted to them like squirrels collect nuts…. Personally im greatful for all the trees we have in our area they all have their uses and their beautys

I live in north eastern Ohio and alot of the parks have these trees in them. My wife, my daughter and i frequently visit the parks and walk barefooted all the time. Infact of i was to go into my car right now there would be at least 20 pods from my daughter who os 18 months old being attracted to them like squirrels collect nuts…. Personally im greatful for all the trees we have in our area they all have their uses and their beautys

I was looking for something else when I saw this item. I cried when I had to cut down my sweet gum tree due to plumbing problems. The leaves were a glory in the fall. Neighborhood kids would collect the balls to throw at each other and use for craft projects. It was worth the cleanup duty to see that tree in the fall. It was cut about 30 years ago and I miss it still. Trees are not so easily replaced when you are in your 60s.

We planted 4 sweet gum trees last year after we moved into our home in the north Georgia mountains. They are doing great! They are all about 5 1/2 feet tall and have grown several inches. I bet you miss yours. I know I’ll never get to see them fully grown in my lifetime, but I hope my children and grandchildren will see them grow more and more every year. Thanks for sharing!

Sweetgums are favorites of mourning doves, especially in winter. They will congregate inter the trees in the mornings and pick the seeds out of the balls. Nowadays in Dallas, white-winged doves and collared doves have outcompeted the mourning doves and basically driven them out of the area, but I still fondly remember watching them under my sweetgums every morning back in the 1990’s. I miss the mourning doves with their soothing call and their habit of nesting low in the trees and shrubs. The mothers would remain absolutely quiet all day with just the tail sticking out of the nest, and after the eggs hatched, I could take out a stepladder and check on the babies periodically. Sweetgums should not be planted too close to sidewalks, lest somebody trip on the balls, but they are worth having, just for their value in attracting mourning doves.